Maka's Lament
by SerendipitousP
Summary: Soul Eater Evans was another screenshot, Maka knew this had to be true. But maybe this one she wouldn't mind revisiting. {One-Shot}


Maka wasn't exactly excited about tonight. Indifferent was the word that came to her mind as she wrapped a curling iron around her long blond hair. It had been a while since she had worn it so nice, and she had nearly forgotten how to use such a tool. She had already burned herself twice.

The mistier had had many friends at the DWMA, but these many years on the road had showed her that companions are best left at snapshots, memories in her ever growing photo album. The better the friend, the _better_ the picture, the better it would be to move on before it all turned ugly, which it inevitably would. It always did unless you fled…

When Maka received the letter about the DMWA's ten year class reunion, Maka had to think back a moment. Had it been ten years already? No, it had been more, at least for her. After Maka had turned Soul Eater into a death scythe, she had taken an early leave from school. Her grades were certainly high enough, so the last two years of education really didn't seem necessary. At least not to Maka, and certainly not to her mother, who had spontaneously shown up at Soul's Death Scythe coronation ceremony with a tiny package wrapped in brown paper. No words were exchanged, just pride and tears and the sound of paper tearing. A passport, one with Maka's name on it.

And so started the whirlwind adventures of Maka and Kami Albarn, two blond girls who didn't need men and knew how to handle their scythes. Anyone who had gotten the opportunity to know them knew that they didn't need anything really except for the clothes on their backs and the wind in their faces.

Maka hadn't set foot in the DWMA, let alone Death City in twelve years. It was nostalgic, really. The motel she was staying in was right across from her old apartment. She tried to remember where she had thought she would be now twelve years ago, but the results came up short. At fourteen, she was sure she had imagined herself fighting Kishen eggs and reading books every day. But she would have never imagined that she'd be away from Soul.

Now there's a name that hadn't popped into her mind for a decade. Soul Eater Evans. Cool, musical, a devilish smile that could melt your spine. That boy could tear into your heart and lick his lips at what was inside. Yes, Maka had harbored quite a little crush on the weapon for quite some time, but that was child's play, nothing to be considered real at the sophisticated age of twenty-six. And she was sure that Soul would feel the same, well, if he had ever felt the same, which she knew he didn't. Soul was probably as carefree and relaxed as ever. The years had cheated him of nothing, that much you knew just by knowing Soul. He was living it up and so was she, just in two different ways, just as they always had.

Walking into the reunion went as well as it possibly could have. Maka was announced, which wasn't nearly as frightening as she thought it could have been. Traveling had done many things for her character. It had really evened her out as a person. Stage fright was no longer an issue, and neither was self esteem... at least with most things.

A few others were announced, other minsters who had successfully created their own death scythes. Black Star and Tsubaki came together. Maka noticed the matching bands on each of their ring fingers. She smiled at two facts. One, that the two of them had gotten together and two, that Black Star's hair had flattened out significantly.

The twins and their OCD mistier were announced next. Death the Kid (who was definitely no longer a kid) had somehow gotten even taller. While the twins looked as different as ever, one thing had defiantly come together. Instead of the signature asymmetrical lines striping across his left hemisphere, there were three complete circles. He completed the Lines of Sanzu! Maka had to remember to congratulate him later.

Lastly was Lord Death and his right hand man, his weapon of choice, Soul Eater Evans. Unlike Black Star, Soul's ruffled hair remained as restless as it had twelve years ago. His lean, muscular shape had been amplified by the several inches he had acquired. By Death, when had that boy gotten so tall?

Maka milled around for a while, exchanging nonchalant 'hellos' and 'how are yous.' The most common questions she received all inquired to where she had been all these years.

"Places," Maka would say, and her tone said the rest. She didn't come to talk about herself, she came to see how the others were doing. Maka had no need to relive her tales through words, she had already lived them in reality. But after about an hour of mindless chatter of who everyone had married and what occupations they had obtained, Maka realized that coming here wasn't such a grand idea. Not that all of these people weren't great people, they were just… snapshots. Images from her past. Images whose stories no longer appealed to her.

After the universe felt that it could be put off no more, Maka turned and 'rubbed elbows' a little too roughly with Soul Eater Evans. Her glass went sideways and all the colorful contents emptied themselves onto the floor.

"Well, I was going to offer to buy you a drink, but it wasn't my plan to spill the one you already had." There was that deep, charming voice making Maka fall in love all over again.

"It's an open bar," Maka retorted. She had already had enough talk of babies and marriages, she didn't need to hear about the fantastical string of lovers Soul Eater Evans had probably possessed in the past twelve years. "Besides, I don't drink." He raised an eyebrow and glanced down at the pool of translucent, red liquid. "Shirley temple."

"Oh, Maka dear, it's been so long!" Oh, no. Oh, Death no. Maka didn't turn around, she just stared tensely into the face of the white haired man who read her like a book.

"On second thought," he smirked, taking Maka's hand and leading her through the crowd and away from her over-bearing father.

"Whiskey," Soul said the the bartender, "on the rocks."

"I'll have the same," Maka said. She didn't know alcohol and she wasn't about to sit here and ask what every drink had in it. She looked at Soul who was smirking yet again. "What?"

"You sure you can handle that kind of drink?"

"Of course I can," she lied through her teeth. What had she just gotten herself into? They grabbed their glasses and made their way to an abandoned table in the corner where it was, for the most part, quite. After a few moments of awkward silence, Maka decided it was her place to break it. The sooner she did, maybe the sooner she could leave.

"So," she said, tapping her fingers on her glass, "Lord Death's Personal Weapon."

"You noticed," Soul joked.

"How could I not with that grand introduction? That must be pretty nice."

"Oh, it's great." Here it comes, Maka thought, the string of fantastical adventures with fantastical lovers. "I get a big, comfy chair in Lord Death's room. I teach a class for weapons at the DWMA. I've got lots of nice people doing lots of nice things for me. I would have sent you a letter explaining how I was chosen to be the scythe in charge at graduation, but I didn't know where to send it."

"When did you graduate?"

"Two years after you did like the rest of us."

"Zimbabwe."

"Well, that doesn't help all too much," Soul laughed. "Zimbabwe, huh? What were you doing out there?"

"Things," Maka shrugged, wetting her pointer finger with whisky and tracing the top of the glass.

"What kinds of things?" Soul pressed his elbows to the table, eager to hear more.

"Many kinds of things."

"You ever fall in love?" Now that caught her off guard.

"Did I ever what?"

"You know, fall in love. I noticed that you don't have a ring on your finger. And they announced you as Maka Albarn."

"Well, use your context clues, Soul Eater. There's not a wedding ring and I'm still using my maiden name. Did I ever fall in love?"

"You used to be guarded, but not _this_ guarded. What happened to you, Maka?" Soul's thumb rubbed at a spot on his glass with concern.

"Nothing, I just had some time away and I realized that all _this_ ," she waved her hands in the air, "isn't at all what I'm looking for."

"Then what are you looking for?"

"Answers." A few moments of silence passed and Maka decided to finally take an experimental drink of the concoction in front of her. Multicolored fluids swirled around as the liquid rushed through her open lips. Maka pushed the bitter taste down her throat and fought to keep it there. She looked at Soul expectantly.

"Very impressive," he smiled, then downed his with one gulp. Maka tightened her grip on her jaw to keep it from snapping open. He looked at her the way he did before a fight with a Kishen. Challenging. Maka picked up the glass and downed it, slamming the empty carcass back on the table. The tears cresting her eyes were evident, but she shook them away before she thought he would notice.

"So, Black Star and Tsubaki?" Maka asked lamely.

"Oh, yeah. They're crazy about each other, they always have been. Black Star proposed the day before graduation. He just couldn't wait."

"That's nice. I always hoped they would get together."

"What about you? Any special men in your life?" Maka pressed her lips into a thin line. Soul took the hint. Not drunk enough. He took their glasses and stood. "Another?"

"Hit me." He left and came back a second later with two new glasses.

"You ever have gin before?" He asked, placing the new drink in front of her.

"I think once in Germany." She said tensely. This time, she was the first to down the drink. Soul didn't even bother to sew his jaw shut.

"What's in Germany?"

"Lot's of things."

They shared a few more drinks, much more slowly this time, for talking began to occupy their mouths more than the liquor did.

"So what made you decide to travel in the first place? You could have had an amazing life here. You were such a great mistier, Lord Death talked about asking you if you would consider teaching if you ever came back."

"Hmm, too bad I never will."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm out there exploring the world, Soul. I have more friends than I could count and even more than that, I have my mom back."

"But there's one thing you don't have."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"A home," Soul said with deathly seriousness.

"A home? Really? And I suppose you know this how?"

"Well," he sighed, "you showed me what a home was, Maka. It's a place where you can be yourself. You can walk around in your boxers and make ramen at three in the morning. But better yet, it's where your heart is. It's a place you can leave it at the door and feel loved again."

"And I suppose you found some nice girl, settled down, and made your own home?" Maka put her head in her entertained fingers and looked, really looked at Soul Eater. His face was truly timeless. As was the left hand he held up to his face, fingers splayed.

"Nope." He wiggled his ring finger to show how naked it was.

"And I'm suppose to believe that Soul Eater Evans stayed single all these years?"

"No, not entirely. I've had my fair share of flings, as have you, I'm sure. I just haven't found the woman that I've wanted to spend the rest of my life with is all."

"What do you mean 'as have you?' What makes you think that I've had my own series of love interests?"

"Oh, please, Maka. You've been everywhere. Someplace, somewhere there's bound to be a guy who makes you feel at least an inkling of desire. Tell me there isn't."

"Well, I didn't exactly say that." Soul raised his eyebrows, anticipating the rest of the story. "There was one, and yes I mean it. One. About three years after I first started traveling. A nice-looking German boy. He's the reason I stayed there for so long. We were together for about a year and a half and then he left me. Well, he didn't exactly leave me so much as I found him in our bed with another woman." Soul put his hand on Maka's with care. "But what can I say, they can't all be winners."

"That's the answers you were looking for. Why he would do that to you… Maka, I'm-"

"You know what?" Maka chugged the drink in front of her. This one wasn't as strong as the last, but it was just hard enough to do the damage. "I suddenly feel like dancing." She pulled Soul from his seat and lead him out to the center of the dance floor where some song she didn't know was playing. Maka didn't know a whole lot of songs anymore. She pulled Soul across the floor with an awkward ease, as if it was something she had done before, but not for a long time.

"So tell me more about yourself, Soul Eater," Maka spoke loudly over the music, never ceasing the swaying motion of her hips. "What has the hotshot Death Scythe been up to all these years besides sitting in a cozy chair and teaching a class on how to be pointy?" To others that might have been offensive, but not to Soul. He only chuckled.

"Honestly, Maka, not much other than that. I sit in the chair, I teach, I go and eat dinner with nice people. It's a cycle... a never ending cycle."

"So who are these nice people you speak so fondly of?"

"Women, mostly. I get asked on a lot of dates."

"They ever lead anywhere?"

"My bedroom, but that's about it."

"You ever ask anyone out yourself?"

"Actually, no. I've never needed to. Anyone who I've ever found interesting simply found their own way to get to me. Then I actually spend a few minutes of intimate time with them and I realize that I don't actually care for them at all."

"Every time?"

"Every time."

"Then why do you take them home with you?"

"Didn't you take home guys after you and Mr. Germany broke up to try and fill some of the emptiness?"

"Nope, I just drank a lot."

They danced for a few more seconds before the music ceased and Maka could actually hear herself think. Who hurt Soul? He said that he had never fallen in love. The only thing Maka knew was that Soul was a charmer but he certainly wasn't a player.

"Hey, I have to slip away for a few seconds. I promised Lord Death that I would play a song on the piano tonight." Maka nodded and he slinked through the crowd. Not long after, the deep sound of bass chords rung throughout the hall.

Once when Soul and Maka were being possessed by the black blood, Soul had asked her to pick any key on the key board.

"G. What a Maka note," Soul had said after she had picked. She hadn't really known what he had meant by that until now. In her travels, Maka had been to many places and heard many people play many instruments. Everyone had their own district sound, but no one played like Soul. The rhythms, the notes, the pitches, they were so uniquely him that Maka wondered to herself how she had lived without them for so many years. He played from his inner being and through his fingertips. Souls music was every bit as him as his own leg was.

Before Maka could stop it, the sound of piano had ceased and the sound of applause filled the air. Soul stood up, took a humble bow and returned to her side.

"You wrote that, didn't you?" I asked in awe. The music had continued so we continued dancing, this time slower. Our movements were more sensual and conversational.

"Actually, you did. Well, mostly. The entire chart is based on the scale of G minor," he pressed his finger tips into my hips in the places where the keys would be. "G, because you picked it, and minor because of the notes I picked after that."

"So, I picked the first note. That doesn't mean a wrote it."

"You'd be surprised how much credit can be given to the musical inspiration."

"What's it called?"

"Maka's Lament." They danced in silence, their faces a black slate. Soul Eater Evans was many things in the years that Maka had the pleasure of knowing him, but only two were certain, to her at least. He was a boy and he was a friend. But never at the same time. Well, of course he had to be at least one of those at each moment, but the two words never conjoined to form any more meaning than what each of them offered individually. A boy, anatomically, and a friend, companionably.

"You wanna know something, Soul Eater Evans?" Maka said spontaneously. "I used to have the biggest crush on yo-" Maka's last word was filled with the first words of another. Souls lips tangled with hers roughly, asking so many questions all at once. Questions that Maka just couldn't answer.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Maka asked, pulling away and eyeing the exit. Soul pulled her through the crowd and out the door. Outside they found his mo-ped and hopped on it just like when they were kids. Maka had commented about it, of course, asking if Soul was ever going to get a real form of transportation. Soul brushed it off like he always had.

As the bike whisked through the city, Maka let herself dream for a moment that this was fifteen year old Soul Eater and fourteen year old Maka Albarn. She imagined that they had just collected another Kishen soul and Maka would make a joke when they got home about not having to feed Soul since he technically had already eaten. Maka fished her cold hands into his warm pockets and tried to form a picture in the mind of her younger self of how on Death's dry, desert sand Soul's lips had somehow managed to find their way to hers tonight.

When they arrived at his apartment building, they got into an elevator and made their assent to the top. His apartment was very nice. Very Soul Eater. White, red, and black furniture. Everything very sleek and modern. When she was through with site seeing, she turned to Soul and pushed him into the wall. It was meant to be sexual, but Soul was much stronger than her.

"You're drunk," he said, chuckling. Soul didn't giggle. He laughed occasionally, but never in a million years would you hear a giggle could out of the composed Soul Eater Evans.

"And who's fault is that?" She said, walking her fingers up his vest and removing the right sleeve.

"The open bars," he grinned, flipping their positions so that Maka was encased in the shell of Soul's arms. He kissed up her neck and back to her lips. Soul seemed like he could stay that way forever, but Maka urged them to the bedroom. Articles of clothing were discarded along the way, so when the arrived on the ginormous king sized bed, Soul was in nothing but a pair of low riding boxers and Maka in her undergarments.

Soul snaked a hand behind her and unclipped the clasp holding the pesky fabric of her bra together. It fell to the floor as did Soul's eyes.

"Soul, it's fine. You can look."

"No, I did. And I'm going to, trust me. It's just... you're not so flat chested anymore." Maka socked him in the chest, and he coughed out a laughed. They each removed their own underwear and climbed into his bed. They kissed and held each other before finally taking the step that neither of them had ever imagined taking with each other before.

Soul Eater Evans grew up to be many things, Maka thought as she came to her peak. A charmer, that was for sure. An excellent pianist. A wonderful lover. An experimental conversationalist. But most of all, a good memory.

Maka arose first, as she always had. She took out a pen and paper out of his nightstand and scribbled something onto it, placing it on her pillow. She dressed herself and headed out the door. Soul Eater was another screenshot, she knew this had to be true. But maybe this one, she wouldn't mind revisiting.

Soul awoke to the sound of a shutting door. He rolled to meet his lover, but his heart sank when he found only tousled covers. He sat up quickly and grabbed the note off of her pillow.

 _Went to get eggs. Be right back. :)_

 _~The End~_


End file.
